TombRaider1

Table of Content

How it all started

I never thought this job would be easy, but a girl can dream, right? Even though in
my line of work it is wishful thinking rather than a dream. I still don’t know
how this will end, yet there is already a man dead, a pile of animal carcasses
and I am in front of an unexplored area high up in the mountains of Peru.

Wait. I’m jumping ahead. Let’s try that again.

I was sitting in Calcutta in a hotel foyer minding my own business, so no one can
blame me (at least not this time) for actively putting myself in these situations. All
of a sudden, there was this American trying to strike up a conversation by
throwing a magazine about one of my latest exploits down in front of me, and asking
me what he would have to do to get this kind of attention. I can only guess if he
actually wanted to meet the same end as the unfortunate Bigfoot, but who am I to
spoil his idea of fun.

Unsurprisingly, he missed the irony of my reply (and probably forgot the last time
we met since he DID get exactly that kind of attention from me...and the hydra).

The only significant thing that Larson did was to set down a laptop with a direct
connection to his boss. Ms. Natla of Natla Technologies seemed to have the same
impression of her employee’s “charm” and, after dismissing him, proceeded to tell me the
real reason for this interruption.

What I must give to this woman is that she knows how to change a strategy
quickly and effectively. When she saw that money was no motivation for me, she appealed
to my sense of adventure. After bringing up the unexplored area in the Peruvian
mountains, a sealed tomb and a mysterious artifact, who was I to say
no?

Today, not even 24 hours after my talk with Natla, I flew to my destination and
found a guide who was willing to accompany me to the tomb. The poor man never knew
what he was getting himself into. Just when I had managed to find the opening
mechanism of the tomb, a pack of wolves emerged from the stone doors and tore his
throat out. I imagine he did not forsee this when becoming a local guide.

After dispatching the wolves and checking whether my companion was really as dead as he
appeared to be (and yes, there is no faking that much blood), I entered the tomb.
The stone doors closed after me with a loud thud. But, I’m not worried about that
now. If anything, I am thrilled.

Let’s see what the Tomb of Qualopec has in store for me...

Into the cavern

The cavern I entered was dark and it took my eyes a moment to adjust. The first
thing I noticed were some tracks in the snow that the strong mountain wind had
swept inside. The beasts probably expected a different outcome when they were
running towards the light entrance, but a mere glance told me that this would not
be the last encounter with that pack. The number of tracks definitely implied a larger
number compared to the bodies lying outside.

But I could not stand in one spot for long; the cave was freezing and, while I was
used to low temperatures, staying still was not helping. Following the tracks, as that
it was the only possible direction I could take, the place was quiet. However, the
silence was soon broken by a suspicious swishing sound. I stopped and soon
found its source: an ancient bolt-shooting device (and while I did not test this
hypothesis, I was quite certain they were poisoned).

I had to chuckle at this pathetic attempt at keeping people out. Were they even trying
when they built this place? No one would fall for a trap like this. But just then I remembered
Larson's face...and the smell of his burning jeans. This distant, almost welcome memory
made me add a small correction: only an idiot would fall for a trap like
that.

I simply jumped over the trap, not really out of necessity, but only wanting to stretch
my freezing limbs. It seemed that my presence was unwelcome to other inhabitants of the
cavern as well, but I had no complaints. After all, was there any better shooting
practice than an enraged bat?

As I progressed, I finally got used to the gloomy lighting and, more
importantly, started recognizing parts of the ancient architecture.

At the beginning it
was difficult to find, but soon I could appreciate the technique and the state in
which the walls and ornaments were preserved.The city had been sealed for centuries and
the archaeologist in me wished that I could just stop for a moment and do what
I was trained for during my studies. Unfortunately, I had a different
task.

There was a single part of the old city I was not fond of: its wooden
bridges.

The cold had preserved some of them, but even so I was reluctant to trust their
stability. The hungry howling under the frozen planks was not very welcoming either, so
I felt a slight relief once I crossed the bridges without slipping or
crashing through.

Soon enough I was not so lucky. My feet slipped and, instead of a safe leap
across the gap in front of me, I landed, barely on my feet, in front of a bear.
Of course it had to be a bear. There was no other animal I loved seeing more
than a bear when I'm scrambling to regain my footing with so little room that I nearly
hit a wall whenever I dodge. It's good that I had packed some
bandages.

And so, after nearly being mauled to death and drastically decreasing the cavern's
population, I am standing in front of a large gate. The second set of bolts
did not bother me much, though I have to admit that what they had lacked in
imagination, they certainly made up for in shear numbers. But I have faith in the
ancient builders, that they will yet surprise me. Now then...where does this lead?

Inside the lost city

I expected no welcoming committee when I entered the lost city of Vilcabamba, but the
pack of wolves that considered me their snack rather spoiled my first impression of the
place. No one wants to shed blood on their first visit, but it seems to happen to me
quite regularly. Fortunately, I had a backpack full of ammo so I could take on whatever
Peru threw at me.

After I dispatched the ravenous beasts, I could finally take a proper look around. In
spite of partial collapse of the cavern’s ceiling, the city’s architecture seemed almost
intact; its walls were still firm and stable, even some of the wooden constructions had
been preserved by the low temperatures of Peruvian mountains.

There was no clear way ahead and therefore I could let my inner archaeologist loose.
While frost had rendered some of the doors non-functional, there still were ways to
access the buildings. Curiously, they seemed freshly deserted despite the time that must
have passed; the primitive fireplaces in the centres of rooms were not swept clean,
there were animal hides, clearly in the process of tanning. Even troughs outside were
full of hay, as if the entire population of Vilcabamba simply got up and left. I
wondered what happened to them and hoped that, as I progress deeper into the complex, I
would learn what their fate was.

Besides the state of the buildings I found, the greatest surprise so far was the
vegetation I encountered. Despite the lack of sunlight, the deeper I walked into the
cavern, the more plants I found; some of them I expected, but many were of varieties
that I had never seen before.

Overall the lost city’s vegetation did not seem stunted by the harsh conditions; on the
contrary, it was thriving. The walls were covered with a thick growth of vines and the
floor’s tiles were almost completely hidden too.

I leaned down and picked several samples, though I doubted they would safely survive the
rest of my exploration. There were simply too many furry reasons to jump, dodge and
therefore crush the unfortunate plants by the contents of my backpack.

Finally, I managed to locate one building that differed from others. The entrance was
locked and I had to access it through the window. The remnants of ancient tiles cracked
under my feet and I plummeted down to a disturbingly decorated room – someone obviously
liked skulls a lot, except for one spot.

After I stepped out of the remains of the upper floor I had just crashed through, I
proceeded to examine the strangely plain area of the wall. It did not fit firmly inside
the remaining stones and used to be equipped with a rope, now half-frayed, half-frozen.
Grounding my feet, I took a deep breath and pushed the block deeper into the wall.

My efforts were rewarded with the satisfying sound of the heavy stone moving across the
ancient floor and I steadied myself again, forcing it further. I already felt sore, but
I did not stop until I felt a rush of stale air.

I found myself in a room with a second floor that, unlike the one in previous room, was
still stable and almost intact. I could only guess why the inhabitants of Vilcabamba
decided to block the entrance to this place, but I soon got my answer; by exploring two
alcoves with skull motif on their walls, I found two items, a silver key and a golden
statue, an idol of some sort. I inserted them carefully inside my backpack (goodbye,
plants, you will be missed) and vaulted to the second floor.

I could finally proceed through a door that was previously locked, towards a unique
structure with three doors that I really, really wanted to photograph properly, but then
something decided to nibble on my feet again and I had other matters to attend to. And
now I’m running out of film so I will have to switch to a pencil soon. Oh well. Nothing
like sketching with half-frozen fingers.

Anyway, the picture still shows at least a part of the construction. It was noteworthy
not only for its distinct architecture, but also for unusual preservation of colour, as
its red decorations were truly striking. The orange paintings inside also retained their
original look. I could only curse myself for wasting so much film earlier, as these
features definitely deserved documenting.

After some running around, the central door finally opened. I could feel I was nearing the centre
of the city of Vilcabamba, not only because I almost got sliced in half by traps, this time more
intelligently placed than the ones back in the caverns.

If I was amazed by the state of buildings outside, this place was simply gorgeous. It is truly a
shame that I have to move on, I would be quite happy here, doing proper archaeology for once.
I’m also not thrilled about having to part with the golden idol, but it seems necessary for
opening the final door in this hall.

Alright. There’s still a bit of the film left.

The waterfall and beyond

When I entered the door, I was surprised to find a simple stone corridor. It was a curious
contrast to the richly decorated structure I just left, but I supposed the ancient builders
simply connected former systems instead of rebuilding everything in the image of the ornamental
red hall. And as I soon saw, there was a very good reason for including this passage in the huge
complex of the lost city – it provided the much needed water supply. Now I finally understood
how the city could thrive despite being deep inside a cavern.

I decided to follow the river to the right, to the roaring sound of what I suspected would be a
waterfall. What I did not expect was the size of it; the narrow cave expanded into a much larger
space and even though the lighting was dim, I could see the mass of water splashing below,
shattering against the surface of a pond. I made my way down to the base of the waterfall,
careful not to slip on the wet stones.

I was glad I did not have to jump into the pool at its bottom – being dragged somewhere by
underwater currents would be a rather stupid way to die, especially when I had other places to
explore first.

As I did not really want to climb back to the top yet, I proceeded to a narrow entrance at the
end of the cave – or at least I had intended to before yet another pack of wolves emerged from
there. From their behaviour, one would almost think I was the only possible item on their menu –
not only theirs, but every bloody wolf in this whole region. I’m starting to think I should have
packed more ammo.

After I ensured I would not be bitten, nibbled or chewed on, I explored the rest of the tunnel,
but this time my efforts did not pay off. The cave ended abruptly and as I saw no other way
forward, I decided to try my luck elsewhere. While I was leaving and trying not to step into
wolf carcasses, I felt a curious draft from a mountain of rubble and stones on my right. Perhaps
there was a way forward, only blocked. But what interested me the most was the sudden change of
temperature. It was almost as if the air was...warm?

I finally managed to climb the sharp stones keeping me from whatever lay ahead. For a moment, I
was blinded by rays of light coming from the new area.

I suspected there would be a crack in the ceiling, perhaps a collapsed wall, but when my eyes
got used to the light, I stared in amazement at what I thought impossible.

What should I say first...the wonders of nature at their best, that’s what the new place was.
There was just so much green!

And not the kind I encountered before, mosses, ferns...no. There
was grass, palms, plants that one would expect in a jungle and not in the middle of frozen
Peruvian mountains. There were smaller streams and waterfalls flowing into the soft soil from
the sides of the large valley and for a moment, I simply stood there and marvelled at the
unexpected oasis.

And then...I heard a screech. And a roar.

I barely had the time to register the whitened human bones scattered in the grass when something
sprang up on me and tried to sink its teeth into my arm. I shot it without thinking. Or perhaps
I was thinking, something along the lines of: IS THAT A RAPTOR?! And even better, it brought
friends.

I’m already missing the wolves.

Look, I have every respect for the resilient ways of Mother Nature, how she protects her
creations from our greedy eyes, but there is a certain pleasant ring to the word “extinct”. I
like it. It defines something that has no chance of feasting on me, because it has been long
dead.

And furthermore- wait, steps. Heavy ones. Really heavy.

Oh hell.

Isn’t THAT supposed to be extinct as well?!

Not so extinct

I wonder if I should report this somewhere. Of course, there would be uproar (ha! What a pun!)
about making the species extinct again because these zoologists and palaeontologists have no
sense of humour. They would probably say I should have avoided confrontation or something like
that. I have always been somewhat lacking in terms of diplomacy but even if I weren't, I highly
doubt that I would be able to talk down a ravenous dinosaur.

On the other hand...I’d love to see my father’s face when he hears that I was almost eaten by a
T-Rex. He’s always been so displeased with my lifestyle, saying that it is unfit for a lady,
that I would bring shame to the family for acting the way I do...and look at me now; so socially
desirable that even an officially extinct creature from the Jurassic era wishes to get
acquainted with my flesh. Surely that ought to exceed my father’s expectations.

But of course, these are my ideas in hindsight. I obviously did not have time to confide my
feelings and thoughts to the diary at that given moment; I was too busy dodging those
monstrously huge jaws. I immediately dashed to the right and prayed I would not slip on the
drenched rocks in one of the streams of the valley. I saw a narrow opening in a nearby cliff and
sprinted there, with the roaring saurian hard on my heels.

I’m still surprised I haven’t lost my
balance, those heavy steps seemed to be shaking the very foundation of the cavern, but somehow I
managed to get to relative safety. I say relative because the raging T-Rex refused to stand
still and its stomping was threatening the stability of my temporary hideout. The two options at
hand were either to stay in the passageway and soon get buried under a collapsed rock ceiling,
or to walk out and become a dino snack. The third option that did not involve a 100% chance of
dying included a lot of bullets. After exploring the corridor, getting rid of yet another raptor
and finding out the cave led to a high opening above the valley, I decided to give it a shot
(literally).

The good part was that it wasn't really possible to miss. Even when moving, the saurian was a
huge target and, to make things easier for me, it kept coming back to see if I haven’t changed
my mind about leaving the narrow passageway that its head could not fit in. I was moving back
and forward through the cave aiming for the less protected parts of the creature’s body and
retreating when it tried to force its way after me.

Finally, it collapsed. I swore I could see the ground shake under the weight of its body, but
the ceiling above me miraculously stayed in one piece, despite the threatening cracks that had
spread across it. And as I have thought several times since entering the mountain complex, I
really should have packed more ammo.

I think I will take a brief break now. It’s pleasantly warm here and the water looks drinkable.
However, I’m officially giving up on bringing home any plant samples from this place. The ones
in my backpack had to have gotten crushed and smashed to smithereens by now and I don’t feel
like destroying any of this unique wildlife (sorry, saurians, you don’t count. No one tries to
nibble on me and just walks away) just for the unlikely chance that I’d deliver them intact.
Someone else will have to try.

And after I have rested for a bit...I think I’m going to explore the overgrown structure at the
end of the valley.

A hunt for cog wheels

It is amazing the lengths that the ancient inhabitants of the lost city were willing to go simply
to make sure no one would discover their secrets. It is amusing to imagine them hiding
provisions on the roof of this large structure thinking: “No one would bother climbing up here.”
They would be very surprised.

After I dropped from the roof, I finally entered the building. From the first look, it was
obvious this wasn’t a temple or an inhabitable structure: it was less decorated than the
previous buildings I encountered, but it was too large for private use. The loud humming from
inside which made an impression and my estimation was a correct one: there was a waterfall and a
deep pool inside the building, which served as a water reserve. The builders used the valley’s
natural resources to their advantage – they simply changed the flow of several streams and
constructed a source of water, large enough to ensure that the city could thrive.

In the centre
of the waterfall, a large stone face was carved in a pillar, which seemed to stare at me. I
wondered if it was a local deity of some sort. I did my best to transfer the pattern to my
notebook, just in case I wanted to look into the meaning of this carving later.

When I looked into the water, I saw that the shape of the pool was uneven. While the left side
seemed normal, there was an underwater corridor on the right. I held my breath and jumped in the
water, hoping I would be able to discover the secret of the pool before I drowned. Luckily I
brought waterproof packets for all of my belongings; otherwise this diary would be a goner by
now. I may love adrenaline, but water mazes are just pure evil.

Luckily, this wasn’t one of them. The corridor ended abruptly just after a few meters and, at its
end, something was glistening. I reached for the object and managed to grab it. It was a cog
wheel. After I made it out of the pool and shot yet another raptor, I examined it more closely.
Obviously it belonged to some kind of mechanism, but I couldn’t help but wonder how it got
there. It was almost as if someone didn’t want it to be found and threw it into the water; the
stream later carried it to the very back of the corridor. Of course, my explanation was as good
as any. There was no way to verify it now.

Before heading back to the large waterfall, I decided to explore the valley a bit more. An
entrance in one of the stone walls seemed...well, not inviting, but it simply seemed a bit too
obvious. I climbed there and soon found my way to a broken wooden bridge high above the place
where I had encountered the not-so-extinct T-Rex. I sincerely hoped the planks would hold my
weight because it was a long drop down (and I could not count on being so lucky as to fall on
the T-Rex’s carcass to cushion my fall). I took a deep breath and leaped across the chasm.

It was a closer call than I would have liked. I managed to grab one of the planks and pull up,
but the whole bridge creaked and I could hear a distinct snap of one of the ropes supporting it.
Still, I was on the other side and I soon found another cog wheel. This was definitely not a
coincidence. I just needed to find the mechanism tow which these objects belonged. I was just
glad the humid environment and water did not make them rusty.

After I carefully dropped down to the valley, I decided to re-enter the corridor that I used to
hide from the T-Rex. I did not have much time to properly explore it and I wanted to make sure
that I had not missed anything. After I moved (well, kicked away because the thing was heavy) a
carcass of the raptor I had shot before, I saw a third cog piece for the unknown machine. I
really hoped that was it for the cog wheels, otherwise I might need a bigger backpack.

For the last time, I glanced at the green valley and headed back. The only place I had not
explored yet was against the current of river stream, above the large waterfall. Perhaps the
machine was there.

Against the stream

Getting back to the top of the waterfall was not as difficult as I had imagined, being reasonably
careful when stepping on the wet stones did the trick. However, when I got back to the corridor
through which I first entered this area, I realized the waterfall was the least of my problems.
If the river had ever been bridged, time and humidity managed to decay the structures so that
there was no longer a single proof of their existence. I had no other option than to start
jumping.

When I talk about jumping, I do not intend to pretend false modesty; I am rather good at it and
my results could be envied by many a sportsman. But there is a significant difference between
trying to outdo your best result – only a number, and if you find yourself missing a centimetre
or two, nothing happens, and trying to leap across a turbulent river leading directly to a
waterfall, all in a dark cave corridor. On top of that, the landing area is not the annoying yet
soft sand, but wet stones covered in slime, which has been getting sprayed by water for
centuries.

No amount of athletic training can prepare you for this.

In hindsight, I was truly lucky to have no audience. When one’s foot slips on cave fungi while
sprinting, then continues to slide towards the very edge of the rock and finalizes the sequence
by falling headfirst into the river (because there is no way the fungi slide would provide a
satisfactory take off), there is a certain lack of gracefulness. And even though the description
may sound humorous, the ensuing struggle against the stream which keeps dragging you under the
surface and a few seconds later sends you flying off a bloody tall waterfall, all that is simply
something you do not wish to repeat. Preferably ever.

After I surfaced, coughing and spitting water, I managed to drag myself to a stone shore and
decided to weigh my options. I was lucky to be launched from the centre of the waterfall, so I
dropped directly to the pond and did not break any bones on the sharp rocks on its sides. The
problem was, I may not be this lucky the next time.

I found my way back to the place of my unfortunate fall and decided to examine the rock below me
in more detail. I soon found several poorly visible hollows, full of those treacherous fungi. I
wiped off the ones still clinging to my soles and before I made my second attempt at crossing
the river, I made sure to precisely plan my steps, to avoid those dangerous spots. Only then did
I hold my breath and leap across the water.

It worked! So what if the landing was not completely stable. The main thing was, I managed to get
across. And even though I still had a long way to go, at least I found a safe way to progress. I
continued in the same way, careful examination, step planning and the final, hopeful leap, I
even had to grab a slippery ledge once to keep myself from falling. It was only through sheer
strength of my fingers which managed to fight their way through the thick growth to a firm rock
that I did not repeat my trip down the waterfall. Finally, I pulled myself up to an elevated
corridor.

The rest was relatively easy. I soon found my way between its stone walls, and then I finally saw
the mechanism that I was looking for, just on the opposite side of the river.

It seemed to be missing those exact three cog wheels which I had found. There was also a bridge
on this side of water, a surprisingly well-preserved one. Maybe it was able to endure the
humidity because it hung quite high above the river. Whatever the reason, it still held my
weight and I could finally approach the mechanism, insert the cog wheels and pull the lever
right next to it.

The following sound was truly thunderous and echoed throughout the whole cavern, so it took me a
while to understand what had just happened. The former inhabitants of this city were far more
skilful than I had given them credit for – they managed to construct a controllable dam! I kept
observing the water, as the stream became thinner and calmer. Now I could finally make my way
back to the waterfall, if there still was one – if there was anything behind it, I’d be finally
able to reach it. Before leaving the area, however, I decided to explore the newly opened door
to my left. What I found was definitely not nice, but very useful. Some truly unlucky chap made
his way to the ledge behind the door, but then it probably closed on him and he was left stuck
there, unable to return to the main corridor. All that remained of him now was a skeleton. And
right next to that skeleton I found two things which I promptly collected – not that he would be
needing them anyway. There was a new roll of film, which means I can continue documenting this
fascinating city. The second object was a shotgun. I wish I had that when I found myself in that
raptor hell a while ago!

Now was the time to head back to the waterfall, hopefully for the last time. Of course, it was
nothing like before I pulled that lever; there were some lazy streams of water here and there,
but otherwise the rock face was bare. In it, I could see an entrance which had been completely
inaccessible just a few minutes ago. I wasted no time swimming right to it, entering the
corridor which led me deeper and deeper...to a door, which begrudgingly opened. I am definitely
headed the right way.

Inside the tomb of Qualopec

Sometimes, you just can’t help it but be impressed by the ancient builders. They somehow managed
to construct a door with a sealing technology so great that it managed to keep the ever present
humidity out of the tomb for centuries. The breeze coming out of the newly opened passage was
cold, but dry. I could only imagine what I would find inside – the architecture I had
encountered before I entered the waterfall region was impressive, but if there was an area
unaffected by outside conditions...that would be amazing.

I followed the stone corridor deeper and soon reached what seemed to be a central room. And just
as I had hoped, it was undamaged – the colours vibrant, the statues still retaining their sharp
edges and astonishing details. The walls were decorated in a manner I had seen before, but the
level of preservation was nothing alike – the whole hall appeared to be only recently abandoned,
something I knew could not be true. Centuries were passing by, but this place remained
unaffected. I took one last look at the tall ceiling and sighed.

Sometimes I wished I weren’t in
such a rush and could take as long as I wanted to explore and document all my findings.
Unfortunately, I had an artefact to find, so a few pictures would have to do.

The door to my left was closed, so the only way I could proceed was ahead to a steeply rising
corridor. Something kept telling me to stay alert and, just as I neared the top, the feeling
proved true – a huge stone ball dropped in front of me and started rolling right at me. The
rumbling echoing in the tomb complex was almost deafening. I immediately turned around and
sprinted back to the main hall, but it truly was a close call – the rock missed me by mere
inches, smashing into the stone corridor I had used to enter. I just hoped the impact would not
collapse it, as it was my only possible exit.

After I caught my breath, I decided to try again. There was an ornamental gate at the top of the
slope, and behind it – the Scion! Unfortunately, it would not budge. I must have missed
something in the main hall and, as I made my way back there, I noticed what it was; a lever,
hidden behind one of the statues next to the entrance. And just as I pulled it, I heard a
screech which was just as familiar as unpleasant. Raptors. I wondered what would happen first,
if I would run out of bullets or if this place would run out of these annoying carnivorous
reptiles. I hoped for the latter.

I soon stepped over the two scaly carcasses and realized that I had severely underestimated the
size of the tomb. What seemed to be merely an entrance hall and an inner chamber was in fact a
whole underground complex of similarly decorated rooms, and enormous ones on top of that. A main
hall with side corridors in various heights, striking signs and symbols in the sea of orange and
red, spikes still covered in long-dried blood of whoever was unlucky enough to test their
functionality...

I suppose this is a good moment to mention how much I adore this tomb, apart from the screechy
and moving bits.

While I was making my way through a maze of vibrantly painted walls, I wondered how this place
was constructed. Just how much planning must have gone into this! The ancient builders must have
spent decades alone building this tomb. Any mistake in their calculations could have proved
fatal, as the whole structure was still underground, buried inside a mountain.

What I truly love during my expeditions is experimenting with old mechanisms implemented in the
sites I visit. Most of the time they do not work, but from time to time, they tend to impress
me. The Tomb of Qualopec did the latter; as I pulled a lever in one of heightened corridors, I
heard a sound. Of course, that is nothing major –it could have simply been something breaking,
as these mechanisms often do. This sound, however, suggested something heavy moving, and when I
re-entered the main hall, one of the huge red blocks I had previously seen had moved across the
room.

No rails, no slope, no reasonable explanation. The block just casually moved across the room
because I had pulled one small lever.

I wish I had the time to describe all the wonders of Qualopec’s tomb, especially the ever-present
decorations, the meaning of which would take years to decipher. But I am pressed for time and
while I managed to navigate the complex and open the way towards the Scion, I feel hardly
noticeable trembling beneath my feet. I think that I must be nearing the inner chamber now. I
have to move quickly if I want to escape this tomb alive – with the artefact, of course.

The first piece

When several things go wrong in very rapid succession, it is difficult to keep track of them all.
Now that my day is over and I finally have time to write them down, I am wondering where exactly
things started spiralling out of control. Was it when I took the Scion? When I shot those
raptors, did the sound upset the fragile balance of the ancient site? Or was it because just
after I accidentally reduced a beautifully decorated inner chamber of Qualopec's tomb to rubble,
my temporary employer insulted my skills by sending one of her killers to retrieve the artifact,
and not an elite one, no, but a slow Texan monkey? I will probably never know.

When it comes to things I will never know, another one is: how on earth do you build a tomb that
immediately starts falling to pieces when you remove something from a seemingly innocent-looking
pedestal? How can a large hall supported by massive statues topple the very second the artefact
is taken, yet the not-so-subtle T-Rex stomping not so far from here had not even upset the
paintings on the facade?

I simply refuse to believe that the tremors I felt earlier coincidentally reached the critical
point at the same moment I touched the Scion. Setting the place to self-destruct like that is,
while I cannot appreciate it due to the wasted archaeological potential, an admirable show of
skill.

On the other hand, it could have been the artefact's power keeping the tomb intact. No artefact,
no tomb.

Now that I have made sufficient excuses for the destruction of one of the best preserved sites I
have ever seen, let me describe the inner chamber in more detail. It was one of the larger rooms
inside of the complex. The paintings on its walls were very similar to what I have seen in the
previous rooms. The supporting statues were also the same, but the rest was very different. In
the middle of the room, there was a pedestal decorated with four golden idols and above it, the
Scion was floating. But I decided not to reach for it yet. What was behind the pedestal was
equally as interesting.

Two unusually tall and slender mummies were placed standing next to a throne, as if they were
guarding it. There was a skeleton on it, collapsed to the side, yet the bleached bones
miraculously still held together. I wondered why there was no sarcophagus, why the revered
Qualopec deserved such a magnificent tomb, but no true resting place. But before I could explore
his remains further, one of the mummies moved.

I would not really call shooting it straight in the head an overreaction, but I was in no mood to
test how alive or dead the thing really was. Especially since its legs were strangely crooked
and when I took a better look, the proportions seemed...off, somehow. I decided I would rather
not risk the other one waking up on me when examining what it was guarding. I took a step back
and grabbed the Scion.

One destruction of a priceless tomb later, I exited the stone passage. I just had to swim across
the pond under the former waterfall and I could be on my way back, when someone shot at me. That
someone was the charming fellow who approached me back in Calcutta and who probably forgot his
lesson from Rome – that I do not take kindly to being shot at or stolen from.

Once defeated, Larson provided some comic relief in a form of very specific threats. I was just
about to leave and let him lick his wounds – at least before the remaining wolves find him –
when he unknowingly said two very important things...probably the only important things he has
ever said.

He mentioned that the Scion I had just acquired was not the whole artefact, but merely a part of
it. The second piece of information he gave me was the name of his associate tasked by my former
backstabbing employer, Ms. Natla, to find the next piece. Pierre DuPont. I haven’t heard that
name in a while. And I certainly have not missed it.

After an unsuccessful attempt to steal my gun, I left the unconscious Larson behind and continued
to do exactly what he advised me to do – ask Ms. Natla about the second piece of Scion.